


Poured Over Ice

by FlippingAndTurningTables



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fix-It, John and Sherlock are in love, M/M, Season four finale is coming so, Season three compliant, this is the way my emotions have decided to present themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlippingAndTurningTables/pseuds/FlippingAndTurningTables
Summary: John Watson after Sherlock returns from the dead has a lot to think about.And a lot to do about those thoughts.





	

It wasn't hard to reimagine him as alive. It was easy. Just a click, a sliding piece, and he was a living human being again.  
Not dead.  
It was easy to shift the perception of Sherlock from dead to alive. Why on earth would Sherlock be dead? He's Sherlock Holmes for Christ's sake, savior of the bloody universe.  
Because there he was. Right in front of John. Breathing. Speaking. Laughing.  
The fucker was laughing.  
Easy. But he had to make sure. So he wrapped his hands around Sherlock's throat to check his pulse.  
Well that wasn't quite the reason. Turns out it was easy to see that Sherlock was alive, a lot harder to accept it.

\-------

It took a while to admit to himself that his feet were taking him to Baker Street but he realized why when he stood outside the door. John realized that he wanted to talk to Sherlock. That's why he was back. Lingering on the sidewalk with the grey sky gaping behind him. He almost turned away but damn it he just wanted a conversation with the man who had been missing from his life for two years. He just wanted to speak to him.  
So it wasn't the best time to be drugged and kidnapped but what can you do?  
It took a second for his eyes to adjust and three more to assess that he was in serious danger. He couldn't move, could barely see, and didn't know where he was. All the while there was the sound of cheering and... was that children laughing? John had just been drugged and kidnapped and tied up, how dare kids laugh?  
He really started to panic when he smelled the gasoline though.  
And then the fire was lit around him. Smoke curled around his throat. His heart burned. His ears rang.  
His ears heard shouts. It took him seven seconds (to be fair, the situation was quite stressful) to recognize it was Sherlock. Here comes Sherlock Holmes, ready to save the day.  
He felt himself be pulled out of the flames and opened his eyes. His girlfri- fiancé, he guesses, was there. His Sherlock gripped him tightly and continued shouting. Really, John already knew he was there, did he have to keep yelling his name? Sherlock told him to keep breathing, as if John, a doctor, wouldn't know that himself. But he complied. In. Out. In. Out. In... and out. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, John figured.

OOoOO

Yes, the bridesmaids would look beautiful in purple (lilac). I agree, that venue would be lovely. Those floral decorations really do go well with the tablecloths. You're right. Of course. Absolutely. Yes. Yes. Yes.

OOoOO

No, John was not good at dancing. Sherlock wasted zero time telling him so. Just as he seemed to be pushing John towards getting married, he pushed him into dance lessons. With himself.  
Sherlock and John. Waltzing. Together.  
Surprisingly, it wasn't that big of a change. Already they had been dancing around each other, moving to a beat they had both memorized, occasionally stepping on the others toes.  
It was a bit awkward the first few times. Especially when Mrs. Hudson walked in once and started chortling. Again with that dying owl. Sherlock suggested calling the exterminators, causing her to leave in a huff.  
It stopped being awkward then and started being fun.  
John realized the lessons were the most fun he'd had since the whole wedding planning began.  
If he was being honest he would say since Sherlock faked his death, but when is John ever honest with himself? 

\-------

Years later, John will try to explain what happened after the Elephant in the Room case. He will sit in front of Sherlock, in their respective chairs (closer together than before,) and tell him the story he asks to hear so often.  
Maybe the shirt Sherlock was wearing was just the right shade of purple. Maybe there was something in the tea John drank. Maybe, he likes to tease, maybe the stars aligned and the universe sent him a sign.  
Whatever the reason, it happened after sitting in the cab next to Sherlock, adrenaline pulsing and heart aching, and after arriving on the steps of Baker Street.  
John forgot he was supposed to be in his new house, with Mary.  
Sherlock was grinning, cheeks stretched with eyes crinkling. John won't remember what he was laughing at but Sherlock will say it was something funny about Mycroft.  
John will look back at that moment and blush.  
Because maybe it was a combination of all those things he said before. The purple shirt and stars of fate.  
But mainly it was the huge crash of love that washed over him.  
It was the emotions he kept bottled up for years finally spilling over like champagne.  
It was the undeniable fact that everything in his life changed for the better because of Sherlock Holmes and goddamn it he was in love with him.  
Right there on the cracked, filthy sidewalk. Right there with the black door leading to their home looming behind them.  
Right there. Right there, exactly where they were supposed to be.  
Right there was where John kissed Sherlock for the first time.  
It was a long time coming and both of them felt it.  
John stepped forward, Sherlock wrapped an arm around his shoulders and curled his hand in John's hair.  
This. This is what they have been meant to do from the beginning.  
Sherlock broke the kiss, looking away with eyes closed.  
"Took you long enough," he murmured.  
"You absolute prick," John breathed, kissing him again.  
People walking by on that random Tuesday didn't understand that this particular Tuesday was the Tuesday that John Watson and Sherlock Holmes sat down and talked to each other.  
In their chairs.  
Closer together.  
In front of a raging fireplace. 

The pictures that surfaced later, showing consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his suspiciously intimate friend Dr. Watson kissing passionately, spread like wildfire.  
With good reason.  
It was about time those boys got on with it.


End file.
